


How To Save A Life

by paperclipbitch



Series: femslash100 drabbles [55]
Category: Real Person Fiction, Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: Community: femslash100, Established Relationship, F/F, Femslash Drabbletag, Run-On Sentences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 07:46:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7258756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperclipbitch/pseuds/paperclipbitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Hey, are you over me yet?</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	How To Save A Life

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt _smeared make-up_ over at **femslash100** 's drabbletag 7, which... I mean, this doesn't _not_ meet the prompt, but I'm not sure this was what I meant to write, either. Ah well. I've shipped this for _so long_ , I'm glad I've finally written something.

It’s not like it’s a regular thing, ten years strong, high school sweethearts except for all the obvious parts, but it slips between them from time to time, like, _hey, are you over me yet?_

It’s pretty clear neither of them know what to do the day the answer to that question becomes yes, but it hasn’t, half an album of switched pronouns and a secret curl of fingers around Selena’s wrist that no one thinks twice about, girls these days, and which boy is under Taylor’s skin _this_ week? It’s funny, the things you can get away with once you broker a little misdirection.

Taylor’s a sprawl of angular limbs, hair frizzing at the ends, the ruffle a reminder of when both of them were much younger than they are now, braiding their hair together like daisy chains, kids who swapped butterfly kisses like they meant nothing. Maybe if they go to a few more events this year as each other’s dates someone might get a clue that there’s something more behind the easy slides of skin and hands; for now, they can get away with everything. This isn’t for anyone else: it never was.

When she smiles, Taylor’s lipstick flickers with shades of Selena’s, no longer neat, an exact match to the smudge that Selena can taste across her own mouth. It’s been a stretching night, Taylor’s mascara crumbing down her cheeks, her laugh pressed to Selena’s teeth, an eternal promise of: _not yet, not yet, not yet._


End file.
